Together For-Ed-Ver
by Dustbunny3
Summary: [One-shot][Gen or EdEddy, EddEddy and/or EdEddEddy] The first night in the Eds' new apartment, Eddy wakes from a nightmare.
A/N: Man, I suck at crossposting... Anyway! I wrote this last year for Eddy Appreciation Week on Tumblr. This was my last fic for that week and I like to think it was a strong finish. This is basically gen, but can be read as EdEddy, EddEddy and/or EdEddEddy. Like I've said before, the line is a blurry when it comes to these boys. Enjoy!

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Eddy awoke choking on the taste of swamp water and bile, thrashing in mud that was actually his blanket soaked in sweat and tangled around him. He curled into a ball on his side, shaking, willing his heart to steady. He coughed on every breath, eyes straining through the dark as he tried to remember where he was.

It was the sounds of two other people breathing that reminded him. He knew those sounds like he knew the hairs finally sprouting on his chest– better, even. Those sounds meant _safe_ and _right_ and _loved_. Those sounds meant _together_ , and that was balm on the deep wounds of the nightmare.

Still he hurt, memory mixed liberally with fear of what might have been carved into the forefront of his mind. He could taste the filth of mud and mold and words regretted. He could hear the buzz of insects and anger. The images on the backs of his eyelids slipped and slid through his awareness, a seamless mesh of what had and hadn't occurred. He felt cold, he felt alone, it hurt and _it was so dark_.

"Eddy?" was whispered somewhere close– so close, not close enough.

He sobbed, not as quietly as he would have liked; he realized he'd been whimpering but he couldn't be bothered to be ashamed of it if it helped someone find him.

"Eddy?" he heard again.

It was a little louder this time, a little closer. Eddy flailed, his hand miraculously free of his tangle of blanket, reaching into darkness that rippled. His eyes burned and he thought he might be crying. A shadow crept toward him, and he might have been afraid if it weren't for the familiar silhouette of a hat atop it. The shadow extended an arm and then Double Dee was holding his hand.

Clutching that hand like a lifeline, Eddy breathed deep, seeking to inhale the feeling of familiarity, of safety. Double Dee was here, was back– no, Eddy corrected himself, Double Dee had never left him. Not really. He had almost left, Eddy had almost driven him away, but he hadn't gone far. He hadn't gone far then, and he'd never strayed as far in all the time since.

"It's okay, Eddy," Double Dee murmured, leaning over Eddy as though to shield him from the dark, leaning close as if he could crowd out the fear. Eddy could feel Double Dee's heartbeat against his shoulder and the hand Eddy wasn't holding was rubbing soothing circles across Eddy's back. "It's okay. I'm here, I'm with you. Ed is here too. We're in our apartment. It's new, but it's home and it's safe."

Double Dee continued to speak softly to him until his voice was almost white noise. The words were less important than Double Dee being there to speak them to him. Blinking into the dark, Eddy could make out towering outlines that he slowly recognized as boxes of unpacked items, the stacks reminiscent of their old cardboard city adventure when looked at from down here on the floor. They had finally gotten all their things hauled in, he remembered in a far away part of his mind, and decided to leave the unpacking until the next day; they'd ordered in for dinner and set up camp on the living room floor.

Remembering helped ground him in the present, in the reality where his best friends, his favored family, were less than ten feet away and glad to be there. _Excited_ to be there– they'd all three been hard-pressed to stop grinning over settling into a place that was _theirs_.

"Thanks," Eddy said without really meaning to. It was such a small sound as to be lost under the steady flow of Double Dee's reassurances, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Double Dee– thanks."

Double Dee stopped talking, but didn't move away, didn't stop trying to massage calm and comfort into Eddy's skin. He squeezed the hand held in Eddy's, squeezed one shoulder. He didn't say, "You're welcome," but he meant it, Eddy knew.

Instead, he asked, "Are you okay?" Then, when Eddy didn't answer right away, " _Will_ you be okay?"

Eddy considered that, curled around Double Dee's knees and holding Double Dee's hand pressed to his chest like he was offering him his heart. His pulse was slowing, but it still felt too hard, sounded too loud in his ears.

"Would– would you stay over here?" he asked.

"Of course," Double Dee said without hesitating.

After taking a moment to consider that, too, Eddy said, "Yeah."

Double Dee didn't ask what he meant; he didn't need to. He pressed down against Eddy, not quite the right angle for a hug but close enough.

"Let me just get my blankets and pillow," Double Dee said.

Eddy shuddered at the thought of letting him go long enough to let him do it even though he knew that Double Dee would be back, that he wouldn't be going far. He was just working on uncurling from around him, body still stiff with fresh fear, when Ed's voice drifted to them through the dark.

"Don' worry, Double Dee," Ed said. His voice slurred, still carrying the sounds of his interrupted sleep. He fumbled his way over on his knees, a burden of shadows through the dark, already closer than either of them had realized. He collapsed beside them in a mess of his own and Double Dee's blankets and pillows. "I got 'em right here."

It took some doing, but Double Dee was soon set up at Eddy's side without ever letting go of his hand. Ed, still mostly asleep, wriggled and squirmed so that he pressed against Eddy's other side like he belonged there (and of course he did), one of his arms thrown over the both of them. His other arm he squeezed under Eddy, pulling Eddy to his chest in an embrace just for him.

The feeling of his friends, of promise and protection, pressed against Eddy from every side; he was almost afraid to fall asleep again, to find himself once more without them. But when he did sleep, he dreamed of forever and there they were.


End file.
